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In the hospital I formulated a picture perfect way
To predict when I got out
What I thought I’d be strong enough to say
But I can’t tell you
I don’t know why
I can’t tell you
My throat goes dry
So I’ll call my friends for beers
And try to drink away the years
Of believing what you wrote in my yearbook
There’s no changing the direction those years took now
And we’ll play our favorite songs
And we’ll have to sing a long
To pretend that we’re reliving the old days
I’ll pretend that you aren’t stuck in your old ways now
It must take a mastermind or some kind of genius
To figure out the reasons
Behind all of this
And why I’m not over it
I’m still not over it and that’s pretty plain to see
